


Sweet Pea

by saltyynoodles



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Darcy is a Nervous Fool, F/M, Kid!verse but may go into future, Language of Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyynoodles/pseuds/saltyynoodles
Summary: The first time she saw him was a blustery morning on Chawton avenue, a few meters off from the cozy Bennet florist shop, looking rather dreary despite the warm rays that had broken the clouds. The boy, Elizabeth decided, had a face almost perfectly made for scowling. Made for in that there was not a single curl out of place, or wrinkle in sight— the frown settled almost comfortably upon his features.





	Sweet Pea

**Author's Note:**

> A short little thing I came up with after watching the BBC specials and fell in love. I'm contemplating expanding onto this, we'll see!  
> Note- Darcy and Elizabeth's age gap (7 years) has been condensed to around 3-4 years because otherwise, this whole kiddie crush thing gets a lot weirder ha
> 
> (also, don't question how a nine-year-old sounds like a scholar at some points - it's a work in progress :,) )

The first time she saw him was a blustery morning on Chawton avenue, a few meters off from the cozy Bennet florist shop ( _Bennet Family Flowers: “from our family to yours”_ ), looking rather dreary despite the warm rays that had broken the clouds for the first time in days. The boy, Elizabeth decided, had a face almost perfectly made for scowling. Made for in that there was not a single curl out of place, or wrinkle in sight— the frown settled almost comfortably upon his features.

Despite the natural ease that he brooded on the side of the street, it was easily apparent to Lizzy that he wasn’t from Meryton. A foreign, private-school uniform told her all she needed to know— in a town as small of Meryton, there were only public and slightly less-known public schools. And yet, she was intrigued at how his distant air didn’t scream snooty posh. Dark brown eyes roved the streets, he seemed almost anxious

Lizzy’s eyes snapped back down to her youngest sister, Lydia, who played upon the pavement with a ball, with all the eager and fervor of a four-year-old.  
Previously, the youngest Bennet had always played around the gardens that lay behind the shop, but their father had eventually grown fed up with the sorrels and stocks being crushed and took preventative measures. The free-roaming and accident-prone Lydia was thus evicted, with Lizzy being dragged along with an apologetic “you know how the silly girl gets”.

She scowled to herself— she’d rather be productively assisting father, or even endure mother’s embarrassing coercion of customers, than stand awkwardly outside the shop (one would think out of five children, there would have been someone else, but alas, piano lessons, athletics, and schooling had occupied all the rest).  
Elizabeth found her eyes drifting back to the melancholic boy and worried her lip, it didn’t help her feeling of being terribly out of place when an odd stranger seemed to have nothing better to do than just _stare—_

“ _Lydia_!” the shout tore from her throat as Elizabeth saw the bundle of brunette bounce away into the road. The familiar roar of cars suddenly seemed to be a humming crescendo leading towards the wails of agony and then silence—

“Stay back.” The boy with called out, loud and commanding, as the brooding demeanor burst into motion, yanking the youngest girl to his side of the street as an automobile sped past, horn blazing and sleek hood reflecting the red ball as it ricocheted away. Elizabeth tried not to imagine Lydia’s head taking its place.

Cautiously looking across the street, she crossed hurriedly, hands shaking as she grabbed her sister, who was somehow still as cheerful as the moment before. Lizzy looked over Lydia, heart still beating fast, yet she was unmarred but for the sweat dotting her brow from running about all morning.

“Lizzy, Lizzy— I _flew_ for a moment!” Girlish laughter pealed, and for a moment, Elizabeth’s expression softened. _Safe_.

She hadn’t noticed the boy’s disappearance until she saw curls in her peripheral as he shyly held out the red ball, a slight scuff mark on the edge the only sign of the peril it had faced. Elizabeth’s relief faded as she remembered their situation. _Stupid girl_ — she wasn’t sure if she was referring to herself or Lydia.

After a moment passed with Elizabeth staring a bit dumbly, tracing the tracks over and over in her mind, the boy gently handed it to Lydia, whose attention had already diverted. “I suppose you should watch your prized possessions more carefully.”

The words stung— for both their truth and their cruel bluntness. Elizabeth felt a hot anger burn in her chest, “I see. Thank you for your help then,” she cooly looked to the boy, who suddenly appeared far more uncomfortable.

“I didn’t— sorry, I didn’t mean it quite like that.” As if remembering himself, the boy stuck out his hand, “my name is Darcy.” After a pause, Elizabeth took it (surprisingly dry). She tried to rationalize in her nine-year-old mind that she had acted rather snappish to him— perhaps the boy was not Too Horrible himself.

“Darcy? That’s all?” Elizabeth mused, a shaky smile worming onto her face. “A rather femi—”

“Just, Darcy— alright?” Just Darcy looked miffed at her amusement at his name. But it was a different sort of scowl than the frown from before, this one had life and a bit of posh quirkiness (because who used “quite” in _quite_ such a manner these days? Elizabeth giggled to herself at the emphasis he had put on the word).

Suddenly struck with an idea, Elizabeth grabbed his hand and gestured to Lydia. “C’mon I’ll show you the shop.” Just Darcy looked affronted at the handholding (or Lizzy’s sudden casual nature, she couldn’t tell), and made to protest.

“I’ve really just met you— I don’t even know your _name—_ wait, is it far—?” A quick head check of the road and dash later, Elizabeth opened the shop’s glass door with her foot, hands still firmly attached to one moody boy and one vagrant sister. The bell attached to the handle chimed delicately, signaling the familiar.

Lydia rushed off to the back, still giggling wildly to herself, and Elizabeth found the shop surprisingly empty save for the two of them. The counter was barren— perhaps mother had taken a trip to get supplies.

Suddenly _quite_ aware she was still holding Just Darcy’s hand, she released it, mildly aware of the sweat on her palm and _god I hope he didn’t feel that_. Just Darcy, in testament to his character of not being Too Horrible, didn’t seem to have noticed, gaze turned to the racks of flowers and plants, a look of awe on his face.

Elizabeth felt rather foolish just standing there after dragging him around the street, and she walked away towards the isles until she found them. Carefully picking the petite blooms into a small bouquet, she stood up and found Just Darcy standing behind her. He shuffled back, an apologetic sound in his throat, and Lizzy almost laughed at the sight (she resisted guiltily— the moody boy had already been abused by her enough, not to mention what he’d done for her).

He followed her as she made her way to the counter and tied a gentle ribbon around the delicate lavender and blue flowers. “Elizabeth,” she found herself saying. An embarrassed blush rose, “That— no, these are sweet peas. They’re not enough to thank you, I’m sorry. But, um, my name, it’s—”  
“ _Elizabeth_ ,” Darcy’s soft voice curls around her name and Lizzy finds an inexplicable sense of joy— the sort where one feels an obligation to not smile, embarrassed at the unknown cause of the grin. His voice broke her out of her thoughts, “it’s a wonderful name.”

Their arms brushed slightly and without the reason of handing over flowers— Elizabeth, with the all the grace of an indignant child, stumbled back a bit. They both bit out a “sorry” and locked eyes for a moment, then quickly darted away.

“Sorry,” Just Darcy repeated distantly, looking outside the shop. The windows bathed the flowers in a healthy glow. “Oh, I think my mum has finally arrived. Thank you,” he gestured around.

“Thank you, again. It was _quite_ fun,” Elizabeth felt her own smile brighten a bit more at the sight of Darcy’s own wry grin. She doesn’t want to say _see you again_ — she knows what the private school insignia means.

Her heart warmed nonetheless at the sight of Darcy gently tucking the flowers into his coat in an attempt to protect them as the winds blew about. He stepped into a black car, a woman, presumably his mother, sitting beside him (Elizabeth entertained the idea that the small smile gracing his face was because of her). Private school boys didn’t have time for little public school girls who chased after muddy sisters in flower shops in small, small Meyton.

But it really had been quite fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet peas: goodbye, departure, blissful pleasure, thank you for a lovely time
> 
> Sorrel: parental affection  
> Stock: bonds of affection
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
